Harusame
by fallenangel7583
Summary: A story of longing, a story of heart, a story of pain, and a story of regret it’s a story of friends born of tragedy. Yet it is outside uncontrollable factors like an estranged brother, that changes it. AU. InuKag. It’s a story from the future telling of
1. Chapter 1

Harusume 

-_And now a word from the author:_ I want to thank those who have flowed over from 'Curse of the Dragon' to read the new story. I don't plan, at all, for this to be as long as 'Curse', maybe about half the chapters at most. Also, don't hate me…but I'm sure I'm going to anger a lot of people through this story. It won't be a racy as 'Curse' but I'm basing this off real life. That means that the characters (**_all of them_**) are _human_ and subjected to human mortality.

-Also, note now; this is an Inu/Kagome fiction. Though Sesshoumaru is a main character and him and Kagome are best friends, there will be no lewdness between Kagome and Sessh. As for lewdness in general, it won't be as much as 'Curse', I can say that now.

-anyway, on with the show!

Chapter 1 Life is but a dream

His hair was matted by the hazy night's rain; it hung limply cluttering in his face like a mask of sorrow and regret. The morbidity of the night stung at him like a thousand knives, each one drilling slightly deeper into his soul…ripping out his heart piece by piece, rendering him cold to the world. With a deep sigh, the man ran his trembling hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The pale moonlight danced upon his striking features, delineating this figure that so many thought an angel fallen from heaven. His narrow light brown eyes gleamed with an ironic sadness; sadness for regrets that couldn't be counted, for accidents that salvation for was now impossible. His black hair fell like wet cloth over the sides of his face, clinging to his strong cheekbones and broad shoulders, the black midnight locks tangling together as the wind kicked up around him.

Papers danced to inaudible yet enchanting music in the streets, circling each other unabashed in a hypnotic memorizing rhythm. They danced to the whispers of the night, the untold stories of the city and unseen horrors of the darkness. It was enthralling, dangerous; like dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight. The whirlwind of news grazed by the man's feet and continued its seductive dance onward into the ominous darkness.

The man turned his face from the captivating sight. Standing slowly from the frigid marble bench, he pulled a cigarette out from his pocket. The Zippo lighter just short of materialized in his hand as he shoved the cancer stick into his mouth. He cupped his hand, and then ignited the flame. The fire spurted forth from the tiny metal contraption like that from a dragon's mouth, warming his freezing hands. 'Like trying to warm the dead…what is the point?' Titling his head to the right, he shoved the end of the cigarette into the destructive path of fire. As the paper began to burn with life the wind swirled around the man and ended the existence of the dancing flame. The tiny glowing ember at the end of the stick was now the only mark of ones existence beyond the stone walls.

He wasn't ready to face this…he couldn't face it. That was one of the main reasons he was standing outside instead of being at his place next to his brother. The air had been to stifling, the unspoken words unbearable. Taking one look at the girl, so beautiful…by the gods she was always beautiful…then catching the eyes of his brother…it had all been too much for him. Now he stood alone in the windy December night, the night air biting at his face like piranhas. He walked up and down the street slowly, his feet dragging lethargically behind him, his head pounding with a tension headache.

He paused, glancing at the church on the corner of the street. With a grunt, he walked towards the church, his hands jammed into his pockets, the cigarette hanging from his mouth like a limp hand. Somehow he had almost expected to hear the dramatic music of his life echo from the tall bell tower that lingered over the muddy rooftops of the deserted Queens streets. He hesitated putting his foot onto the sacred ground, as if he wasn't worth enough to even be in the presence of God. 'Their God…my Gods…in the end, they are all the same, aren't they? Yet, here I am…a sinner, unworthy of this ground…do I dare tread up it? Will it reject me, turn me away, and cast me to hell? Is this not hell?'

With a grimace, he placed his foot onto the decaying marble step hesitantly, as if in fear of some holy barrier that would burn him for being so close. He leaned forward, his weight resting on his knee after a moment of finding himself safe. There was no holy barrier that judged sinners; he had escaped from _Minos_ and his condemnations. For the time being; he has slipped through those impenetrable gates, slithered under the doors that held the Italian warnings which seemed to linger like clouds above his life '_Before me nothing but eternal things were made, and I endure eternally. Abandon every hope, who enter here'. _

Sesshoumaru's eyes darkened. 'Hope…I know of no such word.' Hope was desolate…hope was unobtainable; hope was a myth, a fantasy made up for children so they grew up only to be disappointed in the atrocity called the real world and take part in ritual suicide under the pretense that life would 'get better'. The truth there was no hope, no good tidings, only darkness…only death. His hands balled to fists, his eyes turned to a near mocha color bordering obsidian…bordering oblivion. What more was there in life? Another step, another dagger to the heart. It was as if the sacred ground was draining his strength, rendering him helpless, defenseless. The once proud millionaire nearly sunk to his knees, the strength fleeing him like rats a sinking ship. He stumbled and grabbed onto the railing, his support transferring to his muscular arms. He was in no sense a weak man, yet all of the tragedy, the desolation of his life, it burned his energy like autumn leaves.

Finishing his ascension, he came face to face with the front of a late nineteenth century church. Lifting his eyes, he focused on the figure of Jesus that guarded the doors. He was neither his God nor his idol. He knew very little of the western religions and less of their practices. What he learned he had from his best friend. Thinking of her…thinking of everything…his heart lurched in his chest, slamming against his chest painfully. He winced, trying hard not to let the emotion slip through his hardened stoic exterior. He paused at the church wall and gently reached out, letting his fingers lightly touch the wet cement wall of the Catholic sanctuary.

Only then, as he held his hand out before his body did he realize just how much he trembled. Tenacity weighing over the simple shudder of his hand, he languidly dragged his digits down the wall watching the tiny paths of dew scatter, like ice from a spoon, around his fingers. His throat constricted and for the third time in the last two hours, he had to swallow down the golf ball sized lump in his throat. '_The strong never cry'_ He could remember his father teaching him. 'Yet how is it I can't keep these tears from rising?' Did it make him weak…or broken? He knew not the answer.

His chest heaved and he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the wet wall. 'Kagome…' His right hand clenched into a fist. Pulling back slowly, he punched the cement, indifferent of how the tiny grooves carved into his skin like savages a roast. Blood trickled from the wound, staining the church with the blood of yet another sinner. He pulled his hand from the block and punched again. 'Damnit…why her? After all of this, why did it end up like this?'

A hand clasped down on his shoulder, startling the man from his brooding and self-righteous indignation. He took a moment to compose himself; his brown eyes sealed shut before he stood upright and turned to face whomever had joined him on the terrace of this lone church. His eyes met lavender and for a moment he breathed a sigh of relief. Had it been his father or brother, it was quite possible that he would have exploded in quite the violent outburst.

The new figure regarded his elusive age-old friend out from under blonde bangs, a worried scowl etched onto his face like stone. After searching the man's face, his pain indisputable, he offered a sympathetic frown. "For all it's worth…"

The aforementioned man shook his head. "Don't you dare apologize! You're not to blame; you had no hand in this. This…this is my fault."

The friend shifted back to sit on the heels of his feet. Searching his friend's face for a trace of understanding, he slowly shook his head. "How is this your fault? There isn't anything…" His words trailed off like tresses of smoke into the night air, letting silence speak in volumes.

Brown eyes closed, images flashed like a home movie in front of his face. Flashes of the past, of how it was, of days he longed to return to. It was a time of shattered innocence, then of tranquil healing…then of friendship and longing…and now…now it was gone; like the wisps of a dream…had it all been a dream? Was life anything more then that though? Once in your hands, in your arms, you could hold the world, feel like you were indestructible. Then a material object no bigger then the size of half a dime could take it all away. How could something so small, so miniscule lead to this…disaster, this tragedy? A voice sang wearily from the inside of his head in a near ghost-like whisper. '_Row…row…row your boat, gently down the stream' _

He screwed his eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the voice. A voice he longed to hear tell him this was a lie…a voice that would tell him that she hadn't married his brother, abandoning him to the harsh realities of the world. A voice that wouldn't tell him that she was pregnant with his arch nemesis's child. A voice that didn't haunt his dreams and wake him at two in the morning calling out for her. '_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_' His right fist clenched shut, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. His façade flickered then faded away, like his connection to the little girl singing in his head. Opening his eyes, tears fell. His voice was hoarse, strained, tired…devastated. "How did this happen?"

His long time friend gently patted his shoulder, his eyes narrowed in concern. "I wish I could tell you. But…I can't. What I can do though is tell you that if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."

Not really meeting his friend's gaze, he nodded dumbly "Sanzo…that means a lot to me."

The man, Genjo Sanzo, nodded, his blonde hair following his head. With a sad smile, the man hooked his thumb towards the archway doors of the tiny church on Bayside avenue. " Here, of all the places to hide, would be the last place I would have looked. I half expected you to be halfway to Newark Airport, to be honest."

Hardly casting a glimpse to his side, he answered rather sardonically, "I do not run."

Sanzo shook his blonde head and sighed. "Why don't you come back inside…I'm sure you're missed."

A firm shake of his head was his response. Walking towards the cement steps, he stared out at the buildings across the street. The streets of New York never seemed emptier. Like a wasteland, he thought disjointedly. A moment of silence passed between the two. "I can't…not yet. I'm not ready."  
Sanzo's smile collapsed, sorrow filtering into his eyes. "Somehow I doubt they will hold the service for you much longer…"

The man swung himself back around, his suit tail snapping through the air like a whip. Gone was the sorrowful man and in his place an enraged one. The side Kagome hated, the side his enemies feared, it broke through his emotional barrier with a vengeance. "You think I don't know that? You think I want to be out here? I want to be strong for her…I need to be." He swung his arm wildly to point at the church. "And yet here I am crying like a little bitch on the steps of this fucking temple! Take your pretentious bullshit and shove it up your ass, Sanzo! I know where I need to be, damnit! Just…" He brought a hand to his face and slowly dragged it over his pale skin. His anger melted like ice and drained from his eyes. An ever more violent emotional storm ensued. This storm was of bitterness, of sadness; it stripped him of all of his possessions, his security; this storm ravaged his soul. "Just let me collect myself."

Sanzo, slightly put off by his normally emotionless friend nodded with empathy. He understood what it was like; he had been in similar situations. "Just…do come back. You're missed." Turning from the man, he began to retreat the way he had come. The chide response stopped him.

"Who is missing me? My brother hates me and I can promise he doesn't give a damn that I'm not there, not that I give a damn, mind you."

Sanzo stroked his chin, his left eyebrow arched. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder and sized up his friend and the ill-fitting lie. "No…it doesn't sound that way at all." He licked his lips and placed his hands behind him. Leaning back, he redistributed his weight onto his palms. "Sesshoumaru…I think it's time to come to peace with your brother. You two are only hurting each other at this point. You need him…"

Sesshoumaru cursed violently. "The hell I do, Sanzo! I need him like I need a bullet in my skull. What the hell would I want him in my life for? I've spent my entire life trying to pretend as if he doesn't exist…"

With a deep sigh, Sanzo shook his head. "And then your best friend made you remember he existed and then you spent the other five years pretending she didn't exist either. Tell me, haven't you learned your lesson yet."

Sesshoumaru scoffed deeply and flipped the man off. "Fuck you and your hypocritical bullshit. I don't take lectures from my father and you are far from that."

Sanzo shook his head. "You're right. I'm not your father. I'm your friend, your best friend at that. And tell me just who you are to call me a hypocrite? I resent that remark."

Sesshoumaru glanced at his friend. "You resemble it as well."

Sanzo narrowed his eyes and shook his head. 'Fuck off and…" Sanzo nearly immediately shut his mouth and flashed him a grimace of repent. "I didn't mean that…I apologize."

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes. "I told you…a hypocrite. You call yourself a religious man and yet your morals are worse then a common mongrel."

Silence fell between the two. They shared a glance of commiseration before collapsing to the marble steps.

Sesshoumaru swallowed hard, his fingers toying with the laces on his black shoes. "I'm here for _her_…not my brother, if you must know. I could care less if that gutter rat crawled back into the sewer he came from. In fact, a part of me wishes he would. He's been a plague on my house since he surfaced. His mother was the death of mine."

Sanzo turned slowly to glance from the corner of his eye at his friend. "You cannot honestly believe that, can you? You hold your brother…"

"Stop calling him that. he is my half brother."

With a wild hand gesture, Sanzo corrected himself. "My apologies, my liege…"

Sesshoumaru turned, his brown eyes beginning to kindle with the rising of a raging temper. "Cut your travesties, Sanzo, I am in no need of further stress."

Sanzo sighed and ran a hand through his ear length spiky blond hair. "Fine. You cannot blame your half brother," he bowed his head towards the other man, as if asking approval, "for his mother's or your father's mistakes. What they did was between them…"

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead. "And it lead to the eventual destruction of my mother…and my life."

Sanzo tilted his head towards the ground and sighed. "I pity that even after all of these trials, you still feel that way, Sesshoumaru."

The man, Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and rubbed then wearily. "Now is not time for a Buddhist lesson, Priest."

Sanzo inclined his head, the crimson shakra on his head catching the light of the moon. "As you wish. Just…" He paused then shook his head. "Never mind…just come back. Your father has been looking for you."

Sesshoumaru laughed bitterly. "If my father wished to find me, he would have come to Japan. He knew where I was…I had long ago given him my address. It would not be hard to locate me."

Sanzo stood up and brushed off his pants. "I was under the distinct impression they have tried…many times over. You wanted nothing to do with any of them."

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes. "Can you blame me? They betrayed me."

"I think you have it backwards, Sesshoumaru."

Sesshoumaru grit his teeth so hard the bones in his jaw twitched "It's been five years since I've had any contact with this family. They did not come looking, they merely sent letters, trivial bullshit for little children."

Sanzo winced. He had heard the entire story from InuYasha, time and again. The truth was that it was not only letters…it had been private investigators, emails, letters, and more. But he could understand just where Sesshoumaru was coming from. Would it have been different if Kagome had shown up at the office in Tokyo…or in Singapore? Would it have been different if she had walked across country to find him in California or Chicago? The Buddhist priest doubted it. With a rather redundant question, he pushed on. "What about her?"

Sesshoumaru's brown eyes darkened as he slowly looked up to the sky. The guilt ate at him like acid. 'Has it really been five years since I talked to Kagome? She must have thought I abandoned her.' The pain in his heart spoke words he never wanted to hear…the truth. '_You did…right when she needed you the most_.'

Sanzo grit his teeth and nodded slowly. "So…is that your conviction, your sin?"

Sesshoumaru glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. "Forgive me father…for I have sinned…it's been a life time since my last confession."

Sanzo chuckled wryly. "You're talking to the wrong priest for that kind of confession. Maybe you should confess it to yourself though, and believe it this time."

Sesshoumaru sighed, hanging his head, then leaned back to rest against the church wall. Another tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away furiously then cursed. "This is preposterous. This Sesshoumaru does not cry!" he scolded himself out loud.

Sanzo opened his mouth to speak then thought otherwise. Taking a moment, he walked to his friend and leaned on the wall next to him. Reaching up, he took the cigarette from his friend and took a long drag. Letting the smoke make trails through the crisp night sky, he slowly prodded, "Do you remember when we first met, Sessh?"

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and took back his cigarette, the memory staining his brain like iodine. "No," he lied.

Sanzo smiled in spite of the lie. "I do. Kagome had four kids try to jump her on the playground…fans of yours I suppose."

Sesshoumaru's heart lurched at her name. 'Why does this hurt so much?' He knew damn well why. There would be no more nights of a scared little girl tapping on his window, no more days of sitting in his room in security with his arms around her, her resting against his chest watching television...where she was safe; where she wasn't in his arms…where she wasn't likely to be hurt or used…a place where she wasn't under his asinine brother, being fucked like a common whore. Like a glass shattered, all that remained were fragments of memories…and they cut at his heart. With his mouth dry and his throat raw, he forced out, "I…I guess."

Sanzo studied his friends face then sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back with the falling rain. He decided to reminisce anyway. "I was in sixth grade…so she was in fourth. It was the year you started middle school, I remember her telling me later. Some kids that were in my grade who had been watching her, I guess, decided to talk to her since you weren't there to scare them away. I was cutting class with Gojyo and Nicholas, we thought we were so cool standing on the side of the school smoking." He trailed off and stared at the cigarette in his hand. "I can't believe I'm not dead yet, honestly. With as many cartons as I smoke a day…I guess Buddha is taking his time with me." Shaking his head; he digressed.

"They started to shove her, and she proudly shoved back. I know they said some nasty things to her and she was on the verge of tears. Then one slapped her and that's when I jumped in. Nicholas and Gojyo backed me up. I don't think I've ever been in a worse fight, not even in high school. We put two of the kids in to the hospital. I remember you just short of frying my ass when you came with your dad to get her from the principal's office. Then she stuck up for the others and me; hell, she didn't even want you going after the guys who attacked her. That girl…she's something else."

Sesshoumaru's nails bit into his palm. Hearing this was like tearing open a wound with a soldering iron. His already bloodied right fist made contact with the cement of the steps, his face hardly betraying its stoic nature as his nerves screamed in pain. Blood seeped out of his fist, coated his hand and formed a puddle on the steps. "Damnit, Sanzo…I don't want …" He made a face and nearly growled, "I can't…" His voice fell away, as did his strength. Leaning forward, he buried his head in his hands and tried to hide from the world. "I just…can't do this…not now."

Sanzo stared at his friend for a moment, blinked then relented, "I'm sorry…it was inconsiderate towards your conflicting emotions."

Sesshoumaru lifted his head to eye his friend. "Inconsiderate of my emotions? Since when have you given a damn? Next to that…conflicting? My emotions aren't conflicted Sanzo! I know just damn well how I feel! I'm angry…I'm pissed as fuck at that dip shit of a brother of mine. And…I'm…" Knowing that next to him was the one man in the world he couldn't lie to, he sighed deeply "I'm miserable. I lost my best friend."

Sanzo turned his eyes to the barren streets; since when was Bayside ever this dead? Without looking at his friend, he added, "Today you did not lose your best friend. You lost her when you turned your back and walked away from her for her choice in lover. You exiled her, Sesshoumaru."

Sesshoumaru shook his head firmly, his eyes misting up. "He's not good enough for her…he never was and will never be!"

Sanzo piped, "And who was ever good enough for her? You?"

Sesshoumaru turned his head indolently, anger surfacing across his face as his lip pulled back into a sneer. "You know damn well our friendship was never anything more then platonic! She was like…like a sibling to me."

Sanzo shrugged and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Tapping the box against the heel of his palm, he remained silent. He offered a cigarette to his friend then struck a match to light it up. He lit his friend's and refused to return to the forbidden topic. Never had Sesshoumaru tolerated anyone questioning the merit of his relationship with Kagome. He had started fistfights with men for lesser insinuations then what Sanzo had implied and the priest knew it.

The duo sat in the rain in silence, watching it pool at their feet and soak through their suits. Both indulged in another cigarette without any conversation. Bells above chimed…six o'clock. With a grunt, Sanzo extinguished the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe. He slowly worked his way to his feet, and then helped Sesshoumaru to his. "Come on…we're going to be late. It will not be appreciated."

Sesshoumaru shook his head desperately, his grip on sanity starting to waver. "Just another moment…"

"You had your moment. Now it is time to begin. InuYasha will be upset if you aren't there."

Sesshoumaru ripped his arm out of Sanzo's grasp and angrily spat, "May the Kami's forbid that I anger the Prince!"

Sanzo sighed, swearing his patience was running thin. "Okay…fine. I am going back inside…you sit out here with your cigarettes and your regrets. I'll say this much…if you don't go into that building, you'll regret this for the rest of your life."

Sesshoumaru wouldn't meet his eyes as he slowly turned his back on his friend and his family.

Sanzo shrugged with a roll of his eyes and slowly disappeared into the darkness that had engulfed the entire street like a blanket.

Sesshoumaru faintly heard the doors slam shut and winced. Somehow the sound seemed to be of his fate being sealed. He had shunned his family years before, when he felt like his entire life had been turned upside down. He had hated his brother from he first learned of his existence, and he had resented his father even longer. But Kagome…Kagome had always been his guiding light, his beacon of hope. She was by his side for eighteen years. Now…. Sesshoumaru felt his chest constrict again, the pang of heartache tearing away the remaining pieces of his soul.

Slowly, the six foot four giant slumped to his knees, his face turned towards the heavens. As if begging the rain to wash away his sins, waiting for the gods to tell him how to move on…he held out his arms and prayed. He prayed for the angel of death to steal him away, take him from the pain. He was sure that his heart was breaking. The world around him seemed to fade to black as his eyes focused on the building across from the dreary little church. Soon, that building to became hazy then faded into the nothingness that consumed Sesshoumaru as memories began to overwhelm him. The waves crashed over his head like a drowning man in a raging storm.

Sesshoumaru teeteredon the edge of sanity, being supported by the weakest of strings. It was like watching his entire life flash before his eyes in a decrepit movie theater, being nailed to the seat forced to watch as his life fell apart in front of his eyes. The pain was too much, the agony and self-hatred that had festered for years overflowed and his soul screamed. As he slipped from the conscious world, the voice of the little girl he knew once upon a time washed back to him, _'life is but…a dream.' _


	2. Paradise Lost

Harusame 

-I'm writing this on an airplane, so excuse any sloppiness. Also, if you want music for this chapter, base it to Matchbox 20's 'you won't be mine', and use the music, not the words (yet).

Chapter 2 Paradise lost

-December 9th, 1985

Nine-year-old Sesshoumaru Taisho stared out of the car window, somber shell-shocked brown eyes regarding the desolate landscape of the tiny town. The petite apartments Sesshoumaru would learn to call townhouses were attached in a diagonal line, bathed in rotting yellowish siding that was partially green and blotched white; stains from the sun magnifying the savages' lairs, like ants under a microscope. A blanket of haze, that blurred the inner lives of those that lurked behind the curtains, covered the windows of the homes. The bricks that lined the walkways of the complex were broken in pieces, green invaders eating away from beneath the red blocks, pushing up and basking in the sun while continuing to cover the stones with moss. The streets were paved with blacktop that hadn't been serviced in years, potholes filling the road, dirt filling the holes bottom layer. Dilapidated broken down cars festered in the streets like a disease, their windows smashed, the paint peeling, tires deflated like lost dreams, and rust triumphing over all.

Sesshoumaru's tiny pink tongue dashed across his lip as he turned wearily in the direction of the older man in the car. Matching brown eyes clashed in the rear view mirror, the elder who sat in the front seat gazed at the young boy before peering out the frosted windshield. With the air of a spoiled prince, the child stuck his chin out, his eyes darkening like the brooding clouds that carried the violent storm on its coat tails. Where were the wide fields that were his to control, his to rule with an iron fist? Where was his paradise?

Words seemed to stick to his tongue like peanut butter, his mouth unable to fathom just what wished to spew forth; words that no child should utter, that no child of his age should be capable of using in proper syntax. Failing to control his raging anger, the façade of a peaceful car ride was disregarded in a pile of torn emotions, viciously ripped to shreds by the boy's first words since they left Perry's Ville. "_You_ have _got_ to be joking. What skin do you try to pry over my eyes, father?"

Toga Taisho closed his murky, troubled brown eyes, the boy's cynical outburst grating on the last piece of his frayed sanity. Turning around, the older man regarded his nine-year-old child with a look of irritation. Black hair cluttered his face, peppered with gray from stress of the tragedy that had become his life. When he opened his mouth, he surprised even himself. Though inside he wished to lash out at the boy's ignorance, blame him for his cynicism and whip him into place; Toga found himself patient, his tone kind and understanding. He was still holding strong as that ever-needed father figure in his son's life, though the voices in his head singing loudly of his failure. "I understand that this is not what you are used to…but it will be okay. We are going to have to lose a few luxuries, Sesshoumaru, but things will get better. This neighborhood will suffice for the time being."

Eyebrows fused with young boy's hairline as he reiterated his father's words. "_Okay_? Get _better_? Father…I do not even see grass…let alone more then two trees. How can you possibly consider telling me that things will be _okay_?" He spat forth the word 'okay' as if it was some type of hex, a curse on his life. "I may be young but I'm not an idiot! We are in the middle of a _ghetto_…it is a slum! Open your eyes; I surely hope that this is not what you paid money for, because if it is, I highly suggest you shooting yourself!"

Toga put the 81' Chevy into park and slowly stretched his arms. Loathing every movement of his ache-ridden body, he reached down and grabbed the door handle. Silence was his response to his son's hostility.

Sesshoumaru sat up right, his right hand nervously fidgeting with his seat belt. This was a joke; this whole trip, the whole thought of moving, the loss of everything they ever owned…the loss of his mother; all of it was a test, it had to be. Had Sesshoumaru not done everything he was asked of? Had he not abided by every rule set forth by his father and housekeepers? Had he not the courage to take over the proceedings of his father's investments while his father had been incapable of even getting out of bed for the two months after his mother's death. Granted, it had been with the help of his estranged uncle, but he had stepped up to the plate to help where he could. Did it no longer matter? What had he done wrong to face such misery? 'First mother…then leaving the mansion…now this? No…it must be a dream!'

His voice fell on cold windows, spilling white-hot breath into the freezing December air. "Father? This is a joke, right? You didn't move me from our mansion in Perry's Ville to come out to the ghetto; correct?"

Toga closed his eyes, briefly resting his forehead against the window. He wanted to blame Hibari…he wanted to curse her name for sending him to this hellhole with a son who barely understood anything that he had seen…that had changed his life so dramatically. Yet with a raising pang, he took on the full responsibility, wearing it on his shoulders day to day. Everything that had happened, everything that had changed the once prosperous family into a broken shattered dream was his fault. And his son hated him for it.

Pushing open the car door, he dragged his feet with each step. He knew that his son would never accept the new accommodations but it was all they could afford, next to the tiny townhouse, the clothes on their back and in the trunk and the car itself; it was all they could afford. His skin drew taunt as he felt his son's eyes following him as he walked around the vehicle. 'He's going to resent me for the rest of his life,' he realized as he paused by the metal barrier between him and his kin. Calling half-heartedly through the plated glass, he beckoned, "Come Sesshoumaru, I will show you the house."

A hand slammed down on the raised lock, locking himself away from his father. Before the older man could realize what had happened, the boy darted around the car, locking all four doors to seal him away inside the metal casket. Sitting in the middle of the backseat, he crossed his arms stubbornly and narrowed his eyes. Bellowing loud enough to make himself wince, he yelled, "I will not! I'm not opening until you say we can go home! I will not live here! We do not belong here!"

Breathing hastened and formed blurry patches in lazy circles on the frozen window. Eyes on both sides of the glass shut, each trying to forget the turn of events that had led them to this treacherous precipice that neither father nor son should dare scale; a body on a floor, a bath tub full of blood…a casket lowered into the frigid foreign soil, the absolute desolation of a once prestigious family, flowers placed on an early grave…all of it drove the two lonesome and terrified men to this brink.

Two hands pressed on the glass, the voice of a worn man twice his age called to the boy in the vehicle. "Sesshoumaru…please…open this door."

Sesshoumaru swallowed hard, his eyes studying the groves on the two hands. Slowly, he worked his way to his knees and moved closer to the glass. At no point did he plan on complying with his father's wishes…yet curiosity got the better of him. His father…the thought of that word boiled his blood and forced his jaw to clench with indignant rage. It was that so called father that landed him in this position, it was his father's fault he was forced to be a bystander in the death of his mother, demanded to participate in her simple burial in the middle of no where. On terrain that wasn't her own…he might as well of let her body drown at sea. The simplistic accommodations of her funeral consisted of a small wooden coffin and a grave marker with only her married name and the dates of her existence on this earth.

Simple; that wasn't a word to describe his mother, Sesshoumaru realized as his hands grew numb with rage. She was an aristocrat of Japanese culture, of Japanese society. Every step she took was with prestige, people cowered under her gaze, and people feared her. Her name, much like his father's, was known all around Tokyo and Kyoto. Her surname had been in the history books for centuries, monarchs had known it whose bones were now ash, whispered with fear in dynasties long conquered; but above all, he had known her name…and he would never forget it; Hibari Sakuramachi. The name dated back to the early 1700's to the ruling class, and she had never carried herself anything less of an heiress.

Perhaps that was a part of reason for the ritual suicide that she had partaken in a year prior, Sesshoumaru pondered as he pressed his two tiny against the outline of his father's on the outer window of the car; his father had disgraced her family and her only salvation was that at the edge of a sword. Sesshoumaru found himself wondering more and more, as the darkness of the nights swarmed around him like misquotes to the dancing flames of death, if fatality was his only escape from the life his mother abandoned him to. Taking a moment to glance out the opposite side window into the empty streets of the tiny neighborhood, he drearily arrived to the rationalization that he was, indeed, doomed.

Tranquility stirred around the boy before being shattered like glass; and that was exactly the effect. Sesshoumaru hardly had time to cover his face before the front passenger window imploded under the pressure of a powerful show of brute strength. A cloth covered hand reached through the window to pluck the tiny gray lock into the upright position.

The blast of frigid air that circulated the car forced Sesshoumaru to lower his arms that he had thrown over his head in a moment of shock to realize just what he had caused his father to do. The wind bit at his cheeks and dragged him away from his self-pitying and morbid fascination with the past. Lowering his hands to gape at the giant looming over the passenger seat, he felt his rage reach a breaking point. Blustering, he spoke without truly thinking. "Are you an idiot? Are you seriously trying to kill me like you did my mother? That glass could have cut me, you bastard!" Sesshoumaru gasped as his father moved quicker then he had in months and grabbed his right wrist. His body jerked forward, his face nearly smashing into the back of the leather seat.

His father's face was red, raw from the nipping wind and crystallized by tears Sesshoumaru would never acknowledge. His voice was lower then Sesshoumaru could ever remembered, his eyes deadly; it was a dominant side of his father which he though dead and buried with his mother. "Listen to me, boy, and listen well; I am not your doormat, I am not your servant, I am your father, and you will treat me as such. I have never asked anything of you Sesshoumaru, not one thing. Now I am demanding; you will listen to me, you will obey me and honor me. How dare you lock me out of my own car! If you were a year older, I would beat you for this insolent stunt! Now get out of this car!"

Sesshoumaru's brown eyes locked onto his father, all thoughts of disobedience or mutiny wiped clean of his brain. Scurrying like a whipped dog, the nine year old quickly pulled his arm free of the vice grip and unlocked the back door. He nearly toppled out onto the pavement before coming to a rest in front of his father, his hands clasp behind his back in the perfect display of feigned childish innocence and perfection. His ear length brown hair blew behind him in the wind, his eyes wide with fear he hadn't known for the last two years. Since his mother's death, he had been able to push his father around like

Toga Taisho climbed his way out of the car and stared down his nose at his son. Glancing back at the shattered window, he nodded slowly at the damage to the new vehicle. "When I am done showing you the house, we will clean the seat and put plastic over the frame. Come."

Falling into step behind his father, the boy hurried to the brown doorway of the townhouse. He stared at the brass doorknob with furrowed eyebrows; why wasn't it gold? Following the doors molding down, he grimaced as his eyes locked with a greenish brown mold that was festering on the side of the house, close to the tiny garden. His eyes widened, as if staring at some ravenous beast, as his hand tapped his father on the shoulder rapidly, afraid to speak for fear of the green gunk attacking, thinking itself provoked.

Toga sighed as his unlocked the door to his future home then turned to glower at his son. Grasping the boy's hand in his, he bellowed, "enough, Sesshoumaru! What do you want?"

Sesshoumaru swiveled his head around, with much of an effect of a whip, from the mold to face his father. Impersonating a deer caught in headlights, the boy dumbly pointed towards the green substance. "I…it's just…I saw…and I…" swallowing what felt like his tongue, he spit out, "what is it?"

Toga narrowed his eyes, confused over the boy's blubbering. Looking around the child, he sighed and put his hand over Sesshoumaru's to lower the pointing finger. "It's mold, Sesshoumaru…it grows on things."

Sesshoumaru looked as if he had swallowed something sour. Turning back, he eyed the fungus suspiciously. "Will it grow on us?" as if thinking it capable of attacking him at night, he took a step back, "why wasn't it in Pennsylvania?"

Toga rolled his eyes; suddenly finding himself nearly exasperated and wrapped his arm around his son. "No… it's harmless. It grows everywhere, my son…even in the house in Pennsylvania. You just never noticed. No more dawdling, come." Pulling him into the house, he shut the door and wrapped his arms around Sesshoumaru's shoulders. "Go pick out your room. The master bedroom…that is the room with the bathroom in it, is mine. Out of the other two rooms you can choose which is to be yours."

Sesshoumaru looked up through his bangs to the looming figure of his father. He seemed to contemplate what his father had suggested before sticking out his chin and proclaiming, "then I should have both! One will be my chamber, the other my play room!"

Toga shook his head with a deep sigh. "No, Sesshoumaru. The other will be my office! Now go!"

Sesshoumaru turned to his father, his eyes wide with an unforeseen panic. Glancing around rapidly, he eyed his surroundings. "But father!"

There was no way all of his toys would fit into his bedroom; it was completely inconceivable! Stomping his foot once, he crossed his arms like the stubborn price he was raised to be. "That is completely out of the question! I cannot fit all of my toys in my chamber!"

Toga licked his lips slowly then dropped down to the floor onto one knee. Placing his hand tenderly on his son's shoulder, he pulled Sesshoumaru a little closer. "Remember, son…we had to leave a lot of stuff. Though you will still have your favorite toys, we don't have enough room to keep all of them. So we'll see what we can fit and then we'll have a garage sale. You can make a profit." He tried to smile but failed. He had been wiped clean, completely, when his stock crashed and his business failed; millions of dollars were simply gone. It had been his near breaking point; then to top off the greatest year for the record books, his wife committed suicide. Now he was forced to live off scraps…and it was not only him but also his heir whom he was helpless to support.

Sesshoumaru leaned forward, his eyes narrowing before his nose was just shy of touching his fathers. Storms brewed in the boy's eyes, lightning crashed through his persona. "You want me…seriously…to sell my toys; to whom, the filthy urchins that must inhabit this complex? You're insane! I would sooner burn them!"

Toga shut his eyes and counted backwards from ten, trying to control his already worn patience. Weathering his son's ignorance, he thinned his lips and carefully suggested, "Go find your room, Sesshoumaru." When the boy failed to move, fire still burning from the mere suggestion of handing down his precious possessions, Toga clapped his hands in front of his face, "_Now_!"

Sesshoumaru leapt into the air, his eyes wide, and slid a foot back from his father, looking as if he had been struck. Turning on his heels, the boy tore up the rickety old steps to the second floor. Toga watched the boy run before collapsing to the floor on his knees and wept.

Sesshoumaru wandered up and down the tiny hallway four or five times, looking into the three rooms that graced the abode. The largest was his fathers, but still it didn't seem nearly half as large as his last bedroom. Was his father serious? There would be no playroom…and what of his study…his kitchen? What of his personal staff who waited on him at all hours of the day? When Norma had kissed his head with tears in her eyes, was that a true goodbye? He remembered her responding in her thick English accent that he was still her little boy and no matter what happened, she would love him regardless. With a sneer, he slapped his hand against the white wall; what did that filthy bitch know about love? She wasn't his mother! She might have helped raise him for eight years, but she held no place in his heart. She wasn't Japanese, and therefore, in Sesshoumaru's book of law, she was on the same level as the dirt he stepped on.

With a grunt, he pushed open the door to the room furthest from his father's. Staring around the naked eggshell room with a stained gray carpet, he felt his lip turn up with cynicism. This domicile would never be home, and yet slowly he was realizing it wasn't meant to be. This was his prison; he no longer had any control over his life. With a defeated sigh he would never dare to echo around his father, he hung his head and tried to stop the tears from falling. Losing his balance, the boy collapsed to his knees as his black jeans splotched with tiny wet tears. He covered his face and wiped wrathfully at his eyes, trying to rid himself of this sign of weakness. Somewhere in him that weak part that proclaimed to be his humanity screamed out, "mama…take me with you!"

A choked sob echoed from the hallway, barely catching Sesshoumaru's attention. It was a moment before his father pushed through the door, his eyes bloodshot and weathered. Slinking to his knees, he moved to embrace his weeping son. "Sesshoumaru…I'm…"

Sesshoumaru swung blindly. Catching his father in the shoulder, he shoved the man as far back as his childish strength would allow him. Standing up and moving to the furthest side of the room by his window, he screamed, "don't _touch_ me! You're like a disease! Everything you touch has failed, has died! Get _out_! Get out now!"

Toga swallowed down his pride and clenched his fist until he was left with half crescent grooves in his palm. Forcing all his emotion behind a barrier of indifference, hiding once more from his family that he single handedly destroyed, he blinked away his pain. "Is that what you think of your father? Do you see yourself as a failure?"

Sesshoumaru seemed to understand the position he had backed himself into. Turning from the man, he chose silence to answer the question.

The flash of black hair exiting the room ended the conversation. Sesshoumaru blinked away his tears for a second…third…maybe forth time that day and turned his attention out of his window. He was amazed at what he saw. A tree grew right outside of the house, probably one of the few trees in the neighborhood. It seemed rather healthy, strong, and stable. He stared for a moment, as if seeing a clip from a dream before shaking himself back to reality. "It's just a stupid tree, baka!" he scolded himself. Turning, he began to walk away before pausing mid step. Glancing once over his shoulder, he felt compelled to return to the white-bordered window. He sighed heavily then allowed his weight to turn him around, pushing his brown hair behind his ears. He stared at the window for a few moments, as if judging it worthy of his time. With another sigh, he walked to the pane.

Opening up his window slowly, he bit back his cry as the wind pummeled his face with renewed vigor. A branch of the tree had grown out to his window, seemingly a nearly prefect walkway to the trunk of the tree. Slowly Sesshoumaru touched it; as if afraid the wood would lash out and bite him if he moved to quickly. His fingers traced over the grooves in the bark, then over the end that was pressed against the house. Rings around the end of the wood proved how many times it had been cut back…but it still grew strong, regardless of adversity; time and again the branch returned to the side of the house. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshoumaru crawled onto the frame of his window, balancing on his knees; maybe the branch was strong enough to hold his weight? With a thickness that Sesshoumaru couldn't even wrap two hands around, he was amazed that the tree had been given that much time to grow with its difficult position.

Sesshoumaru glanced down and blanched. The ground seemed to be thousands of feet below, nearly startling the boy enough to send him cowering back into his room. His head shot up, and stared across the way. Another branch grew on the opposite side of the tree, connecting itself to the opposing house with a gap that had to be maybe thirty feet apart. Slowly glancing around the trunk of the tree, Sesshoumaru struggled to peep into his new neighbor's window. Through the open window, he could just about make out pinkish colored wallpaper and some type of girlish curtain design that fluttered in the frigid breeze.

"It's not nice to look into other people's rooms, you know; Mama said so!"

Sesshoumaru screamed, actually bellowed, and fell backwards into his room, his head connecting with his floor with a rather echoing thud. A gasp resounded above and as brown eyes opened, he locked onto a set of dark blue pupils, staring at him from his windowsill. Rubbing his forehead, his vision blurred for a moment before becoming sharply focused on the little girl who was staring at him. Embarrassment was flushed out of his system by rage. "What are you doing in my tree?"

The girl blinked and sat back. "It's not your tree," she said in a huff, "it's been here longer then you! I know cause I live in it!"

Sesshoumaru rubbed his head again and sat up, sneering as he took in the little imp in front of him. She had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, cerulean blue eyes and a red and white polkadot dress on, and she was smiling at him. How dare she? Standing quickly, he crossed his arms in front of him and narrowed his eyes. "I own this house and it's on my property, therefore it's mine! And you can't live in a tree, you idiot!

The girl sat back as if smacked. Her eyes widened and filled with tears before being replaced by anger Sesshoumaru would find himself igniting time and again. "I am not an idiot! Mama says it's not nice to call people names! You take it back!" she mimicked his stance, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and pouted, trying to look rather intimidating and failing miserably. She knelt halfway through his window, her eyes peering at him in uncertainty.

Sesshoumaru took two steps towards her and made motion to push her. "Get out of my room…and stay out of my tree!"

The girl pulled her hand back, as if she would retaliate to his pretend shove. Taking on a tone of authority, she demanded, "you stop telling me what to do or I'll scream!"

"Go ahead, see if I care! Scream all you want, no one will care! If you live in a tree, which means no one loves you!"

Tears welled instantly. Sniffling, her response came slowly, "my daddy loves me…and my mommy will always love me!"

"Whatever Jane, go back to your tree house! I'm sure Tarzan's waiting! I'll just have my daddy chop it down!"

Confusion mixed with panic washed across the tiny features of the small girl. "My names not Jane…it's Kagome! And your daddy can't chop down my tree…I'll get my daddy to tell him not to!"

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes. "Jane is the name of Tarzan's girlfriend! I…" he shook his head, "never mind, you're probably illiterate! What are you…five?"

Kagome stuck out her chin. "I'm not ill…iolite…whatever you said!" Batting her eyes twice, she added sweetly, "and if you must know, I'm six."

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow. "Wow…such a big difference! Let me humbly apologize for such a drastic error!" Adding in the tone she used for her additional comment, he jibed, "And if _you_ must know, illiterate means you can't read!"

Kagome scrunched up her nose then blinked twice and sneezed. Wiping her nose with her arm, she made a face. "Who's Tarzan?"

Sesshoumaru stared at the girl in mute disgust. His eyes flashed from her arm to her face and back to her arm. "Do you know how many diseases you just put on your arm…not to mention you just wiped all your snot over it! That's disgusting!" Turning around aghast, he stared at his door dramatically. "Father moved me in with a bunch of savages!" Whirling around, he held up two hands, "you don't believe in ritual sacrifices, do you?"

Kagome blinked then giggled and moved back further on the branch. "You're weird!"

Sesshoumaru stuck his head out the window and stared around the tree. "How many of you are there?"

"What are you talking about?"

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes and hissed, "Savages! How many of you are there?"

Blue eyes stared curiously at him until a smile engulfed her face. "I like pie! My momma makes good pie! I'd ask you if you want some but she isn't making pie today!"

Sorrow quickly shot through her features as she turned lethargically to stare back into her window on the opposite side of the tree.

Sesshoumaru followed her gaze then groaned. "That's not your room, is it?"

The girl didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and stared him down, daring him to lie. "What's your name?"

"I'm not telling you that!"

"Why?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because I said so!"

"But I want to know!"

"I don't care! I'm not telling you!"

"I bet it's something silly…like…Goofy…or Mickey!"

Sesshoumaru sighed. "I am Japanese! I would not be named Goofy, you dolt!"

Laughed floated across his ears like a lullaby. The girl got up and climbed up two branches to stare down at him. "I like the name Goofy!"

Sesshoumaru groaned. "My name is Sesshoumaru, girl."

Blue eyes met his, confusion glowing like a neon sign. "Sess…Sish…sha-show-marrow?"

Sesshoumaru growled under his breath and stalked to his window. Grabbing the edge of the pane, he narrowed his eyes. "Sess-ho-maru! It's not that difficult. Now goodnight…and leave me side of the tree alone, you savage!" With that, he slammed the glass down.

Kagome stared at the closed window for a moment before returning to the sill. Tapping on it twice, she called inside, "Sessh…Sess…Sesshy, wait…are you my friend?"

Sesshoumaru lifted the pane up an inch. "I have no friends, nor do I want any! Have a good life!" Again he closed the window.

The tapping continued. With a feral growl, he yanked it open again, his non-existent patience gone. "What do you want, you insufferable little brat?"

Kagome chewed on her bottom lip, staring at the boy. For a moment, he feared she would cry. That was before she broke into a giant smile. "I want to be your friend!

"I told you I don't want any!"

Kagome shrugged. "I don't have any friends either…but I want one. And since you live next door and seem kind of nice…I thought…"

"You thought wrong! Now go away!"

Kagome reached out and put her hand over his. It was that glimmer in her eyes, the longing for a companion that lingered on her face and echoed in Sesshoumaru's heart that stopped him from slamming her hand in the sill. It was a look that would be his undoing. His voice softening, he retorted dumbly before pulling his hand away from her, "you're a girl…I'm a boy…we're not supposed to be friends!"

Kagome laugher seemed to rip through Sesshoumaru's mind, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake. She was not supposed to be here…no one was supposed to be happy, let alone laugh. She was throwing off his equilibrium and his world was teetering out of control! For the second time that day, he was aghast at her tenacity; how dare she try to change his current attitude, let alone state of mind? The smile that pulled at her tiny lips was addicting and he could feel the germs spreading to him, trying to force his face to mirror hers. 'That would _never_ happen,' he thought callously, 'this stupid girl will not make me smile!'

"Please…I really want a friend!"

His nose wrinkled with disdain. He didn't like her insistence. "If I say yes…will you go away?"

Kagome nodded happily.

He seemed agreeable with the accord for the time being. "Then yes…now go away."

Kagome giggled then shot across the tree with amazing agility. He watched her disappear into her room then sighed loudly. Shutting his door, he paused for a moment before locking it and turning to look into his room. "Great…someone shoot me now."

&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&XX&X&

The movers had come right before nightfall with their few belongings that Toga had managed to salvage from the foreclosure. He had moved Sesshoumaru's bed into his room, and had opted to leave the rest of the items to move in the morning. He had made the boy's bed and had a hell of a time trying to get Sesshoumaru to actually go into the dwelling. He couldn't blame the boy for the anger that festered inside of him like a plague; he held himself in contempt for the way their lives had turned. But to watch such a brilliant and smart child like Sesshoumaru become self destructive, reclusive, and utterly cynical, it tore away at him with wild abandon.

Now, standing in the doorway, he was forced to talk to the tiny boy who was a spitting image of his inner hatred. "Sesshoumaru, in the morning, we'll begin remodeling the house. I'm going to need your help, so you'll have to spend tomorrow indoors. I hope this is of no problem to you."

Sesshoumaru shrugged from his bed and rolled over to face the window. He put one hand to the sill that was right above his pillows and gazed up at the sky, wondering just what star was named after his mother and where she was smiling down at him from. That's what the grown ups chose to tell him, and of course he knew it was all lies, but to humor them, and maybe a part of himself he would never admit to owning, he would stare up at night and try to find her in the black depths of night.

Toga stared at the boy, taking in the stiffness in his shoulders and the straightness of his back as the child peered out the window into the dark ominous night. Sesshoumaru was angry, not that he could blame the child. Sesshoumaru understood the tragedy that had begotten his life more so then Toga first gave him credit for. Then again after all, it was he who found his mother dead on the bathroom floor, both wrists slit open. It had taken Toga nearly the entire day to coax the boy from the wardrobe in which he hid while the coroners stole away the body of the deceased heiress. Staring at his son now, he was able to see through the façade that the child had etched in stone which surrounded him like an impenetrable fort. Toga saw the glint of sadness, the longing to return to life the way it had always been for the child.

Toga would be the first to stand and say his son was spoiled, but a genius never the less. Not for the first time in the year, Toga regretted the fact that he missed watching his son grow into the child he was now. For eight years he traveled the world, making sure his business was profitable enough to allow his wife her extravagant ways of life, and making sure his company was strong enough to provide a future for his son, a thrown for the boy to step up to when he was of age. But like most fairytales, the wicked ones ripped the dream from under Toga's feet. The company faced investigations by the IRS and the FBI two years prior when money began vanishing from company funds. Toga had buried himself in paper work, he had spent twenty hours at a time in his office trying to understand what the figures meant, refusing for any moment to believe what his secretaries were telling him. A year later, he was bankrupt.

Toga took a hesitant step towards the child, unsure of how to proceed. As it treading on ice, he slowly leaned closer to the twin sized bed. "Do…you want me to tuck you in?"

Sesshoumaru didn't turn around but his father could easily distinguish the annoyed tone in the child's voice. "I am quite capable of pulling up my own blanket. Oyasuminasai, Otousan."

Toga cringed and dragged his hand over his face. 'Here we go again…' Taking another step towards his son, he grunted in frustration. Sesshoumaru had demanded to learn Japanese, following his mother's influence of course, from the age of three. Upon mastering the language fluently, Sesshoumaru had demanded that he was only spoken to in that language at home when he was seven. Toga had to provide the entire house staff with lessons in Japanese and even hired on some housekeepers from Japan to appease his son. That charade had ended the day after his wife had taken her life. "Sesshoumaru…"

Sesshoumaru's back lifted dramatically then his shoulders slumped forward, seemingly exasperated. Glancing over his left shoulder, the boy eyed his father maliciously. "I was merely saying goodnight. If it bothers you, I shall say nothing then." He turned back to face the window.

Toga narrowed his eyes, intent on berating the belligerent boy but second guessed himself and turned from the bed. Pausing in the door, his brown eyes glowed in the warm bask of the hallway lights. Forcing himself back to his native tongue, he responded, "Oyasuminasai, Musuko."

&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X&XX&X

Sesshoumaru waited until his bedroom door was shut before pelting his pillow at the smooth surface. He wanted to scream, punch holes through the wall, and maybe even pull his own hair out. He was so angry and so frustrated, he wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or to simply jump from his window and pray that he break his neck on impact.

Wincing in pain, the young boy lowered his eyes to his hand. Unbeknownst to him, he had managed to dig his nails into the soft skin of his palm. The warm substance that met his fingers, sticky to touch, was the trickle of his blood. His eyes widened and for a moment, he thought about screaming. Biting down on his tongue, he pulled his nails from the tender skin with a whimper then quickly blotted his hand on the sheet. With a defeated glimpse at the door, he prepared himself to call his father. 'This will be fun to explain,' he thought drearily. Staring down at the crimson stain upon his sheets, his eyes misted. He had done much to avoid seeing anything finding himself facing a bathtub of the horrific color. He felt his stomach turn him his body and his throat constrict. His tongue instantly pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth as he tried to fight down the welling urge to vomit, and yet he still could not pry his eyes from the site before him. For a moment, he was sure he was about to pass out.

The sound barely registered in his brain, his eyes so transfixed on the tiny droplets of blood that his mind was completely left awry. It floated across his ears, reminding him distinctly of the sound that a tiny snare drum he used to own made. Hollow to the touch, yet soothing, enchanting almost if tapped upon by the tips of ones fingers. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from the spot and froze. Outside, on the branch next to his window blanketed by the eerie night, two cerulean blue eyes stared back at him.

For a moment the boy could not move or breathe. Many nights he had nightmares of creatures squirming their way through the cracks in his wall, out from the floorboards under him bed and down through the pipes in the ceiling, all seemingly after his blood. Glancing down at the tiny stain, he screeched and jumped backwards, allowing gravity to play its roll and bring him crashing to the floor on his back

Sesshoumaru stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly in pain. His brown hair blew away from his face as a chilled artic wind danced across his face, marking the entrance of someone…or something…into his room. He swallowed his gut, his hands slightly shaking, the cuts long forgotten about as he pushed himself to his knees. Lifting his head, he collided with something solid that sent him spiraling backward to the ground for the third time that day.

"Ow!" There was a brief moment of uncertainty of which Sesshoumaru had his eyes closed for most of, before a voice rang clear across his ears. "What are you doing on the floor, boy?"

Sesshoumaru groaned and put a hand to his forehead, praying that he hadn't split open the skin…or for that matter, wishing that he had a concussion and that little brat was not truly on his bed. When a small hand landed on his head, he realized he was not dreaming and his wishes were beyond reach.

"Come on…get up off the floor. It's cold."

Sesshoumaru stretched once then lazily sat up, propping his hands behind his body to stare up at the six year old on his bed. He felt his nose wrinkle as he took in her clothing. She was dressed in 'my little pony' pajamas…with feet. What she was doing out in five degrees below zero was beyond him. "What do you want?"

Kagome blinked then laid down on his bed with a lazy smile tugging at her lips. Yawning, she quickly replied, "I missed you."

"You're lying."

The smile fell away from Kagome's face and was replaced by a much defined emotion; sadness. It wasn't the alligator tears Sesshoumaru had seen in her eyes when she was pleading for a friend…it was the look that he saw all to often when he happened to glimpse into a slate of reflective glass.

Twisting her hands into a messy knot of flesh, Kagome peered over the edge of the bed down at her friend. "I…I wanted to say hi."

Sesshoumaru studied her face for a moment, his brown eyes locking on the teary blue ones that stared down at him filled with glimmers of hope and fragments of a broken soul. He slowly sat up and glanced to the tiny clock that was resting on the floor next to his bed. Slowly, without looking from the clock, he drawled, "its nine o'clock at night. I doubt formalities are appreciated at this time."

Kagome blinked, obviously confused, and then sighed loudly. "I…was cold."

Sesshoumaru grunted as he slowly lifted himself to his knees and then stretched, arching his back with a deep yawn. "Why…" he rubbed his eyes and groaned. "Why are you cold?"

Kagome shrugged while nestling her head into his goose down pillow. "It's cold outside."

Sesshoumaru pushed himself to his feet and walked around the bed. Glancing outside he scowled. "Why were you outside?"

The sigh that left Kagome's mouth was loud, as if the answer was obvious. "I told you…I live in the tree."

Sesshoumaru cocked an eyebrow. "You can't live in a tree, dummy. It's cold out and besides, I saw you climb through that," he pointed at the window across the way, "window. You don't live in the tree…"

Kagome opened her eyes and slowly sat up, her eyes narrowed in mock hurt. "I…could live in a tree, if I wanted to."

Sesshoumaru grunted and crossed his arms. "No, because you're in here when it's cold. I say you live in that house! You told me you did!"

Kagome hung her chin to her chest for a moment before flopping backwards onto her back. "My daddy closed my window."

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "So go over and open it."

Kagome glanced across the way, her eyes filling with tears again. She sniffed once then rubbed her forehead where she and Sesshoumaru had connected. "I can't…it won't open."

Sesshoumaru shook his head, thinking that he may have misheard her. "Your father locked you out?"

A nod was his response.

A shadow danced across Sesshoumaru's face for a moment before his eyes shifted once more to the window. "Nani? Why would your father lock you out?"

Kagome blinked slowly then closed her eyes. "I don't know. He was yelling and was…" she made a face, as if trying to remember a word then shrugged, "he was acting silly, and then started yelling that mommy wasn't coming home. I yelled back and said she was and then he hit me."

Sesshoumaru dropped his arms and turned quickly to face her. Taking two strides across the room, he couldn't explain the sudden fire that built in his gut. How dare someone strike her? He was outraged, completely furious. He could tell that his face mirrored his rage, because the minute Kagome's eyes locked onto his, she cowered quickly into the corner of the bed.

Dropping to sit next to the frail girl, he reached out and caught her chin in his hands. His eyes darkened to a deep mocha as he took in the very light blushing tint that coated her right cheek like a tiny imprint of hate. He swallowed hard, his throat growing thick as his eyes darted from the bruise to her face. "He really hit you."

Kagome jerked backwards and wrapped her arms around her knees. "It's nothing…he always hit mama. Only when he was…" she made a face again and seemed to think rather in-depth over a certain phrase she wanted to get out. "…was being a…bastard." A smile grazed her lips before they quickly fell back to a scowl. "That's what mama always said to him when he was drinking…al…alco…alcha…alcohol." She nodded once sternly. "And he said mama isn't coming home, but she will. And my baby brother also…she took him with her. Daddy said that she forgot about us and…and…" tears sprang into her eyes and danced on the ends of her long eyelashes before dripping slowly down her cheeks. Her words fell away as she sternly nodded before lowering her face to her knees.

Sesshoumaru snorted once, his eyes glancing around nervously before gazing back at the door. A part of him was completely uncomfortable and almost wished his father would hear her muffled sobs so he would not have to deal with the girl, yet that seemed unrealistic. Reaching out slowly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Kagome…don't…"

He was completely unprepared for the girl to throw herself at him. Landing flush against his chest, Kagome knocked the two of them backwards onto the mattress. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her head wedged between his head and his shoulder. Sesshoumaru landed on his back, her virtually wrapped around his upper torso. His eyes widened as all words died in his throat. A part of him that was looking down on himself was laughing; laughing at how his mouth hung open in shock, how his eyes were nearly falling out of his head…laughing at how unprepared he was for actual human contact. The last person to physically hug him was his mother…at least the last hug that he counted as anything bordering emotional.

Amazingly, he found himself comfortable with the situation. Bringing one hand up to her back, he gently rubbed his hand in tiny circles, rocking gently back and forth. His mind was spinning; why was he comfortable with this closeness to a girl, who as far as he could tell, wasn't Japanese and quite possibly clinically insane. Feeling her body shake against his though, he couldn't help but fight down the sudden possessive urge to sit her in his bed and walk across the way and beat her father senseless.

Not quite sure how long he sat there, rocking Kagome into a comfortable place, Sesshoumaru found himself amazed when he glanced to the clock and found it to be after midnight. His eyes darted to glance down at the girl in his arms, who was sound asleep resting next to him. Quite sure that no one would ever notice, a small smiled graced the broken boy's lips as he laid his head above Kagome's, lowering his arms around her waist and pressing his back against hers. Closing his eyes, for the first time in months, he slept peacefully.

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_From the desk of the author:_

-this story is going to move a lot slower then 'Curse', I'll say that right now, only because it has need for a lot more detail and a little bit more refined vocabulary. So, to make up for this, I put out another story (and yes, the last chapter to 'Curse of the Dragon' should be up very soon!) the new story is posted on and take a look, it will be more…indecent…then Curse could dream of :hehehehe: it's under Shades of Gray. Enjoy!

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I swear, I've been waiting to post and post and post but I haven't heard from beta's yet. So I'm posting it anyway…and then I'll the rewritten version.

A thank you to:

_Lucient, dogdemonandkagome, Leila-chan_

_Sobre, Abby, Shadowww15, Valeve, Addanc-TSC, Toya's Girl, Blood-tainted soul, DrakeClawfang, unseen Jade Eyed wolf, Silentchild13, ultra dork_

_Lina, Tilimiel _


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